


Technicolour Beat

by seasonschange



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Angst, Brain Damage, Brain damaged Bucky, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Musician Bucky Barnes, Not Canon Compliant, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Superpowers, avengers academy au, hard of hearing clint, ooc bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7079857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonschange/pseuds/seasonschange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's probably not your fault," Kamala assured him with a gentle squeeze to his arm. "Bucky's just-", her fingers dug into the sleeve of his bomber jacket for a moment before letting go. "He's special. Maybe more than any of us."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technicolour Beat

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _[Jump](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9FfYWp_d5w) into the heat_   
>  _Spinning on our feet_   
>  _We're moving in a technicolour beat_   
> 

* * *

 

"I can't believe you forgot today's Hawkey's birthday party," Tony snorted, earning himself another smack on the chest from a mildly embarrassed Steve.

"You hurt my feelings," Clint whined on Steve's other side, as all three made their way to the liquor store a mere half a mile from campus.

Steve rolled his eyes and threw an arm around his friend's neck, yanking him closer. "I said sorry already, c'mooooon!"

Clint wheezed and let out a loud snort when he was brought dangerously close to Steve's pouting face, and it took quite a bit of friendly grappling until he managed to disentangle himself from the headlock. "Fine, fine! But I'll only forgive you _after_  you've bought me booze."

"Booze and cakes," Tony mumbled, half of his focus now directed to his Starkphone. "There's nobody we know who can bake which is the real tragedy, here."

"I thought Wasp said she'd take care of it?"

"Yeah, turns out she didn't," Clint shrugged. "I mean she  _tried_ , and ended up setting fire to the girls' dorms."

Tony cackled without tearing his eyes off his phone screen.

"Booze and cakes it is, then!" Steve puffed his chest out and this time wrapped his arms around both his friends' shoulders.

 

* * *

 

The party was nothing Steve'd ever seen. True to her reputation of a party animal, Janet had thrown what he was sure was the stuff of legends. He had no doubt people would be talking about this day for years to come.

"This is  _crazy!_ _"_ he shouted over the upbeat music, feeling the vibrations pulse inside his chest.

He and Sam had barely walked through the mansion's outer gates and into the spacious garden that already they were swarmed by people dancing and drinking and fooling around with giant glittery balloons of various colors. The garden was already littered with discarded beer cans, but it was easy to ignore in favor of the trees and the neatly trimmed bushes that were literally glowing, fairy lights woven in the branches. From what Steve'd been told, this was some dignitary's son's house whose parents were out of the country for a couple of month. All previous parties Steve had gone to had always taken place on the Academy campus (with one memorable _attempt_ at the Stark Mansion that had ended up with Tony grounded for half a year) - and suffice to say it hadn't been easy to keep those a secret from Director Fury and his spies. It had even become a tradition to get busted before the night was over.

This time, though, they were completely  _free_.

As long as everyone was back for class the next morning, they were virtually safe from being told off or punished in any way. And they weren't minors anymore; they were adults. Well,  _legally,_ anyway. Adults who could blow the whole block up if they combined their powers - but Steve was pretty sure there was nothing to worry about on that front.

"Is that _his face?"_  Sam elbowed him and pointed at someone's disposable cup, and he and Steve exchanged a look of surprise before bursting out laughing.

Looking around, Steve noticed more and more of the same cups and a dozen of Clint's faces staring right back at him with a goofy grin, which only made him laugh harder.

"Oh man, this Wasp girl doesn't do things halfway, does she!"

"Nope," Steve agreed, grin widening when he spotted Tony, Clint and Loki making their way over to them.

He grabbed Sam by the arm and went to meet them halfway, his steps already a little lighter, a little _bouncier_ , pushing drunk dancers and busy couples out of his way politely, yet firmly.

He'd met Sam on the Academy's track (since it was open to the public) a couple of weeks ago, and it was high time he introduced him to the rest of the gang. Especially if Sam was going to follow through his project of joining the Avengers Academy and becoming an aspiring superhero himself. He'd been worried at first over his lack of superhuman skills, but Steve'd been able to convince him he'd fit just fine considering Natasha and many others who had (only) their fierce dedication to show.

"Guys, this is Sam Wilson, aspiring Avenger! Sam, the guys!"

Sam chuckled at Steve's wide-eyed enthusiasm paired with an absolute lack of etiquette. "Thanks for nothing, man," then he stepped forward and asked everyone's name as he exchanged basic handshakes with them.

"So Clint, where's your girlfriend?" Sam eventually asked, "I need to thank her for inviting me. And also compliment her on the cute cups. I'm planning on taking home at least five of those."

Clint rolled his eyes, adjusting his hearing aid to accommodate it to the ambient noise.

"I don't know, I haven't talked to her since the party started," he confessed, shrugging. "Last I saw her, she was all over the new guy."

He let Tony ruffle his hair without a complaint, seeming unfazed by his girlfriend's lack of interest in him.

Steve frowned in confusion. Next to him Sam accepted a drink from Tony and gradually began to bounce his head and upper body to the rhythm of the music, followed suit by Loki who was already dancing like there was no tomorrow.

"The _new_ guy?" Steve yelled when the next song was even louder than the previous one. "Who's that?"

Sam bumped a cup of beer against his chest and Steve grabbed it reflexively without looking.

"Thanks."

Sam nodded and then laughed at something Loki or Tony did somewhere in Steve's peripheral vision.

"'S that him?" Loki suddenly exclaimed, right before letting out a resounding burp. He quickly covered his mouth self-consciously but kept pointing at the other side of the room and they all followed his direction.

"Nah, that's our host," Tony shook his head. "T'Challa something. I've seen him around a couple of times, never talked to him, though. He's a graduate, if I remember correctly... wait, how old is that guy..."

"T'Challa?" Sam whistled in admiration, obviously recognizing him in turn. "I've heard about him, he goes by Black Panther."

"Yep, that's the one! Heard he's working with SHIELD, now. I've even seen  _toys_  with the cat suit and all. Makes me even more excited about  _my_ graduation day!"

"Mmhmm! We'll all be reAL suPERHEROes!" Loki whined louder than someone sober would have dared to.

Tony and Clint exchanged a conniving look, then Tony suggested Loki get another drink.

"So who's the new guy," Steve reiterated when Clint's attention finally shifted back to him, making sure to lean closer to Clint's good ear.

"I don't know his name," Clint made a face. "I think he's in musicology or something. Vision's gotta be excit-"

Before the short blond could finish, Tony'd turned around, visibly unperturbed about the fact that they were having a conversation and looped his arms round Clint's midsection, pushing him forward and shouting at everyone else to join the  _"king of the party"_. Soon enough there were twenty people holding onto each other's hips and dancing in a chaotic file with a laughing Clint at their head.

Steve forgot to be upset about the interruption when Natasha finally found him and landed a firm peck on his cheek.

 

* * *

 

Later that night Steve was worming his way through the crowd once again, this time with a couple of glowing sticks hanging from his neck and his jacket tied round his waist. Natasha had teased him about the 80s _"calling 'cus they want their style back"_ , but Steve didn't have a better solution for getting rid of his jacket without losing it in the process. He did not trust this place or the hundreds of people currently occupying it to leave his personal belongings behind - let alone his lucky jacket.

Steve grinned at a few first year students who bumped into him and giggled when they recognized their Class President, feeling relaxed and loose from Loki's Asgardian mead. Loki'd always been a bit reluctant to share, so Steve and the others had had to use quite a bit of coaxing to get the sorcerer into a more generous mood. Mainly, Clint and Tony had gotten him drunk on Midgardian drinks - somehow Loki couldn't hold his human alcohol at all - until he'd yield. The Asgardian mead wasn't especially tasty, strong as it was, and everyone had merely taken a sip before spitting it out or coughing to tears as it burned down their throats. Thanks to the superserum he'd been inoculated with as a child for a highly dangerous experiment, only Steve could drink the concoction without batting an eyelash, and all it did was give him a pleasant buzz.

So there he was making his way to the bar inside the mansion to get his friends another round of drinks, smile easy and feeling just on the right side of tipsy. Once he got everyone's orders he slowly started making his way back, one finger hooked inside each cup, holding them up in front of him at eye-level to avoid bumping them into any careless dancer. On his way out he was swaying to one of his favorite songs currently blasting from the headspeakers, shaking his butt in what he knew from experience made him look absolutely silly - and ran full front into someone he'd failed to notice, too engrossed in the music and his view obstructed by the cups.

" _Shit_ , sorry!"

The drinks spilled all over his shirt and Steve grimaced in disgust when he felt the cold liquid hitting his chest.

_Blergh!_

He brought the cups down with his eyebrows drawn tight in apology, and took a look at the slightly shorter guy he'd bumped into. Steve wondered how he'd never seen this guy before. He was wearing artfully ripped pants and a button-down shirt that was, luckily, still pristine as opposed to Steve's own. But that wasn't what made him wonder.

His heart missed a beat when next he took in the gorgeous shoulder-length hair and the bright blue eyes.

 _Wow_ , he thought.

But whereas Steve was doing his best not to gawk at him, the guy didn't seem to have the same reservations. In fact he was kind of staring wide-eyed at Steve, his red mouth hanging open in surprise.

"Hey," Steve cleared his throat, unsure of what'd brought that expression on the other guy's face. "Didn't see you there. You alright?"

And then despite the other's obvious discomfort _(or was it shock?),_ Steve felt himself slide into shameless-flirt mode, eyelids drooping and a knowing smile lifting one corner of his mouth. He jerked his head up, gesturing to the other guy with his chin.

"What's your name, I'm Steve," he heard himself purr.

_Oh, God! What am I doing??_

He blamed the Asgardian mead; it _had_ to be the Asgardian mead. And if he wasn't too busy making bedroom eyes at a _complete stranger_  he'd be slapping himself to sober up and stop being such a creep.

The other guy finally reacted to the blatant come-on, lips moving silently (or maybe it was too quiet for Steve's ears to catch it) but not forming any particular words. He kept staring at Steve in the same unblinking, round-eyed way, which reminded Steve of a fish. Steve wondered if maybe he'd something weird written on his face.

All of a sudden, the guy turned on his heels in a whirl of dark hair, and dashed out of the house as if chased by a pack of hungry wolves.

And just like that, he was gone.

_Wait, what just... happened?_

Steve blinked, confused, trying to remember if he'd inadvertently scared the other guy off by saying something mean or truly inappropriate (even though that didn't sound like something he'd ever do) - and couldn't come up with anything. He stood frozen in place, still clutching the half empty cups close to his chest.

A tap on his shoulder shook him off his stupor.

"Fyi," Tony yelled, materializing next to him, " _that_ was the new guy."

 

* * *

 

It was the day after Clint's birthday party, the air was chilly and the campus was engulfed in a persistent fog - a natural result from the constant evaporation of the nearby lake.

Steve'd just gotten out of SHIELD History (otherwise titled as  _Why we protect the world but the world does not protect us)_  with professor Coulson, his last class for the day. It was barely two in the afternoon, and going back to the dorms where he knew Clint was still sound asleep in their shared room wasn't appealing. He could probably call Natasha for a round at the gym, or maybe find Loki at the library where the guy had a part-time job as an assistant and always let Steve use the coffee machine for free.

Instead he was roaming the campus aimlessly, unable to get the night before out of his head. And more specifically, the Academy's newest recruit. In fact, the more he mulled it over, the more he knew he _had_ to track down the guy and apologize for his behavior. It didn't feel right to know he'd scared him when he hadn't meant any harm.

 _Why did I even_ do _that_ , he chastised himself at the memory of his blatant, uncalled-for flirtation. There was a reason Steve had never dated - he  _sucked_ at conveying his intentions to people he was attracted to. And the people who tried to seduce  _him_ happened to never be his type.

 _Just my luck_ , he thought, and sighed.

A familiar face made him stop in his tracks.

"Hey! Kam!"

"Steve," she brightened when she recognized him and quickly crossed the narrow flower path separating them. "How are you? It's been a while!"

Kamala Khan was a second-year notorious for sponsoring the new recruits and had to be his best bet if he wanted to find the guy. It was either her or Vision, and the synthetic always made Steve vaguely uncomfortable.

She kissed his cheek and they hugged, and Steve was reminded of how much he'd missed having class with the bubbly girl. During the first semester they'd been paired up during training, the combat class purposefully consisting of first, second and third year students to help them improve their skills through uneven sparring matches.

"I'm good, glad to see you too. Hey, I was wondering, do you happen to know this new guy who's joined the Academy?"

"Oh, you're talking about Bucky? Yes!" But then her eyes narrowed as she continued, her tone a lot less enthusiastic, "why are you asking?"

Steve felt his face warm up in embarrassment. He looked down at his feet and muttered, "nothing, just... I think he hates me, for some reason, and I wanted to talk to him."

He looked up to gauge his friend's reaction. One of Kamala's eyebrows was raised.

"Steve, nobody  _hates_ you. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure it's humanly impossible!" She giggled at that, and pinched his cheek when he rolled his eyes.

"Then why did he act like it? I met him yesterday at Clint and Janet's party, and he didn't say a word just... ran away like he couldn't stand to be in my presence, or something."

Steve struggled not to sound as dejected and miserable as he felt. Because Kamala was right,  _nobody_ hated him. Steve'd had many arguments with people, and he'd gotten into his fair share of fights but never with his friends and even less so with someone he'd barely met and who (if he was honest with himself) he'd hoped to get better acquainted with.

"Oh, it's probably not your fault," Kamala assured him with a gentle squeeze to his arm. "Bucky's just-", her fingers dug into to the sleeve of his bomber jacket for a moment before letting go. "He's special. Maybe more than any of us."

Steve frowned, wondering what  _that_ meant. There were all sorts attending the Academy, and whatever the special powers or incredible abilities the guy had, it was nothing he couldn't take. Hell, he knew a guy who could turn  _green_  and tall as a building! If that wasn't already special enough...

"Can you... tell me?" His voice sounded dangerously high-pitched, unsure of his request.

Kamala sighed, and took hold of his hand.

 

* * *

 

Following Kamala's instructions, Steve found the block she'd helped the new recruit move into and he was about to walk inside and start looking for room number 325 when the wind rose and he thought he caught the sound of his name in the cold gust of air that ruffled his hair.

He looked around, searching for the person who'd called for him. It took a minute before he found them: on the other side of the lane, inside the small patch of vegetation, a small figure was sitting on one of the stone benches, with a guitar slung over their shoulder.

_"Steve."_

It was a soft, sing-song voice, and Steve started moving before he'd made the conscious decision to do so. A moment later he was walking up to the guy he'd been looking for this entire time, and the other's eyes slowly lifted to meet his own. To Steve's relief, he did not appear afraid or surprised to see him. It was already an improvement from their previous encounter.

"Hey," he said, and then sat down on the bench a few inches away from the guy, because it didn't feel right to be towering over him the whole time. "It's Bucky, right?"

Bucky nodded, a curtain of dark brown hair spilling from behind his ear and shielding his face. His fingers were still plucking the chords, but from the looks of it, it was an electric guitar and Steve knew those didn't make much sound if they weren't plugged. Kind of like the guy he was currently sitting next to. 

But now that Steve knew what was going on, he didn't question the other's muteness. 

"Is this song about me?" He asked with an encouraging smile.

Bucky cast him a shy glance before quickly retreating behind the safety of his bangs.

He nodded again.

Steve's smile grew even wider. "Can I hear it?"

Bucky jumped like Steve'd yelled at him, and quickly shook his head. "No," he might as well have _barked_ it was so ferocious, and his grip tightened around the neck of his guitar.

"Okay, okay, sorry," he apologized hastily, holding both hands up. "Hey, I'm sorry I pushed. It's totally fine if you don't want to."

The creaky sound of wood drew Steve's attention to Bucky's left hand, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline when he noticed that the fingers almost crushing the neck of the instrument were  _metal_. His eyes traveled up his wrist next and he could only guess at the rest when the shiny material disappeared under a long sleeve.

 _It's probably the whole arm_ , he thought. _H_ _e's just special all around._

Bucky remained silent, and relaxed only gradually while Steve tried not to talk, not to ask any of the _hundreds_ of questions burning on his tongue, trying to ignore the strange appendage for the time being; just watching and waiting for the guy to calm down, and get used to his presence. He'd hate himself if he made Bucky run away from him again, just because he couldn't reign in his curiosity.

He forced himself to breathe in the cool air, and put his palms flat on the stone. When he thought Bucky was feeling at ease again, he leaned to the side and nudged Bucky with his shoulder.

"I wanted to say sorry for yesterday. I don't know what I said to upset you, but I want you to know that I really didn't mean to."

He held his breath while he waited for the other's response, and let it out in a rush when Bucky tucked his hair back behind his ear and revealed the pleased little smile he was sporting. His eyes were still stubbornly cast down, staring at the guitar in his lap.

"It's okay," Bucky said softly, sounding like  _Steve_ was the one who needed the reassurance. And maybe he wasn't wrong, from the way the knot inside Steve's chest loosened and made him sigh in relief.

"So we're good?"

"Mm-m."

They fell silent again, and for the first time Steve didn't find that so _extremely_ awkward or like he needed to say something to keep the conversation going. Sure he still had way too many things to ask, especially about Bucky's brain injury and what event had been the cause of it (Kamala hadn't known herself, and even if she _had_ known, Steve suspected she wouldn't have told him out of respect for Bucky's privacy). He also couldn't stop wondering about the metal hand -  _arm -_ whatever it was; which was possibly why he'd joined the Academy. Or one of the reasons, anyway. The guy was a mystery all around, but Steve didn't dare pushing his luck by playing twenty questions.

All the while Bucky kept stealing little glances at him, like he was checking if Steve was still sitting next to him and hadn't suddenly left without his notice. It was strangely endearing, and the way he seemed to light up everytime Steve winked at him in return made whatever this was more worthwhile than any long-winded and educated conversation he'd ever had.

It felt nice.

 

* * *

 

After a while the wind rose again, sending the fallen leaves around them flying, caught in the powerful whirlwind. And the trees behind them shook and rustled.

Bucky shivered underneath his long-sleeved shirt, surprisingly ill-equipped for the season. Steve hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shed his bomber jacket and draped it over Bucky's shoulders.

The blue-eyed boy looked up at him and smiled gratefully when Steve's residual warmth was suddenly blanketing his chilled skin.

"Thank you, Steve," he whispered, drawing-out his name like he was relishing the sound of it.

It was Steve's turn to shiver - from the cold or the way Bucky's eyes on him made him feel, he couldn't tell - and managed to choke out a low, embarrassingly clumsy: "you're welcome, Bucky."

 

* * *

 

In the end, Steve didn't find out why Bucky had run away from him, but it barely mattered when they made plans to meet again, soon. He also managed to convince Bucky to keep his lucky jacket, his mind more at ease knowing it'd keep the other safe.

And maybe he liked seeing his star on the guy's shoulder, too.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI - I just barely started playing this game so there's nothing "canon" in here. My impression of Bucky from the way fandom described him was so melancholic that I couldn't help picturing him as this scarred/scared boy writing songs to escape reality, and I was already planning this fic even before I got the app.
> 
> I've also read a book a while ago about a guy suffering from the Tourette Syndrome who falls in love with a brain damaged man, which is my only inspiration for Bucky's "symptoms", etc. I didn't do any further research because I'm lazy.


End file.
